Is This The Enemy..?
…no, just an anemone.
And here’s some pie…or rather some Joe Pye, aka Eutrochium maculatum.
A few projects of the sanding and varnishing variety. Pax is going as a delegate to the convention in Milwaukee (since nobody else is).
…no, just an anemone.
And here’s some pie…or rather some Joe Pye, aka Eutrochium maculatum.
A few projects of the sanding and varnishing variety. Pax is going as a delegate to the convention in Milwaukee (since nobody else is).
…August in Whitewater. Below, photos by Murray Thomson taken on August 4, 2020. The house still stands, and the water is way up high.
Yes, and long pants too. Excitingly cloudy, cool, and breezy. Perfect for dog walks and a long bike ride. A hint of fall. Quite delightful to see tall Queen Anne’s lace and long stemmed primrose waving in the wind. Promise of change, and a move forward to a better time.
Local townie.
Bird’s eye of the homestead
Lone fan of drone practice
…first ripe tomatoes, first batch of basil pesto (though with plenty of basil on hand could have been made previous), and first rain in a long time (brief, but intense evening downpour).
Lycoris squamigera
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Matching
Who Said What?
1. How many legs does a dog have if you call his tail a leg? Four. Saying that a tail is a leg doesn't make it a leg.
2. Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for.
3. I alone can fix it.
4. Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.
5. If you don’t do everything in your power to change things, then things will remain the same.
A. John Kennedy
B. John Lewis
C. Donald Trump
D. Abraham Lincoln
E. Barack Obama
Not a breath of air. It seems that hurricanes in the Gulf or Atlantic suck all the air out of Wisconsin.
Appears to be a bumper crop of corn out in the fields.
Locally, the squash are out of control in the garden. Need a better system, maybe something like Abby’s terraces—or perhaps asking Vi if she would be willing to donate half her yard, thus letting the vines grow freely south.
Noisy village is extraordinarily quiet. Only sound for the past hour has been the neighbor, through the back yard and two doors down, practicing her violin.
…last night and all day today.
Hot in the sun, but a few clouds helping the trees throw shade, and humidity down some. Pax panting more than usual, nonetheless, and reluctant to walk mid-day, which makes me hope it’s just summer laziness and heat hatred (emotions I share) and not something more.
Here’s a fun video for anyone who likes music with their vegetables: CarrotClarinet.
…or so we think. Testing and tracing in Wisconsin is still pathetic. But, our governor just issued an exec order requiring masks. This will be challenged by republicans, and end up in Wis. supreme court, but as of August 1, the court will have a new member, a Democrat. So, we see, voting matters. In fact, right now, our lives depend on it.
Thanks, Obama, for the great speech today.
Neighborhood Association action to prevent the city from felling four beautiful trees that have graced our street for a century—because of the sidewalk problems being caused. Looks like we are succeeding. And, in the process, I’ve come to know a relatively new neighbor, who happens to be our recently elected municipal judge.
Delicious hand made (Sue made) from scratch pizza for dinner.
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Here’s a modern poem I like:
John Brehm
Surfeit of distance and the wracked mind waiting,
nipping at itself, snarling inwardly at strangers.
If I had a car in this town I'd
rig it up with a rear bumper horn,
something to blast back at the jackasses
who honk the second the light turns green.
If you could gather up all the hornhonks
of just one day in New York City,
tie them together in a big brassy knot
high above the city and honk
them all at once it would shiver
the skyscrapers to nothingness, as if
they were made of sand, and usher
in the Second Coming. Christ would descend
from the sky wincing with his fingers
in his ears and judge us all
insane. Who'd want people like us
up there yelling at each other, trashing
the cloudy, angelic streets with our
candywrappers and newspapers and coffeecups?
Besides, we'd still be waiting for
the next thing to happen in Heaven,
the next violin concerto or cotton candy
festival or breathtaking vista to open
beneath our feet, and thinking this place
isn't quite what it's cracked up to be,
and why in hell does everybody
want to get here? We'd still be
waiting for someone else to come
and make us happy, staring
through whatever's in front of us,
cursing the light that never seems to change.
On to Cedarburg. Sue helping pack. Looks like it’s going to be a good move.
Not much to discuss besides the weather.
Pax and I had a good morning walk, though I was sweating upon return. He declined the afternoon walk, but I’m hoping he’s looking forward to the evening amble. Humidity slowly dropping, and the temperature not so bad. Spinach artichoke Parmesan pasta for dinner.
Lead chef Maddie on this morning’s waffles, almost everyone helpin’ in the truck scrub.
Blazing hot.
And overnighters.
Hurricane Hanna aiming for Rockport, landfall tonight/tomorrow.
University garden
Here, sunny, hot, dry, and windless.
Some shoveling and tree removal in a.m. at neighbor’s across the street. Afternoon errands.
To discuss book plans and review artwork.
…at Racine. Just for an outing, and some wind off the water.
Photo by Sue
Pax splash. Photo by Sue
Wind Point
Quick drive by Pugh’s Pierless Marina, which looked pretty much the same as it did 44 years ago, when Vixen was there. Then on to North Beach Park and Wind Point. Lunch at the park.
…along with Wisconsin sweet corn and tomatoes, making for a pleasant pandemic day.
According to what I’ve read, this was John Lewis’s favorite poem:
Invictus
William Ernest Henly
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
…a fine plant by any name. Lots and lots of it in the prairie.
Plan to harvest a few seeds in a few weeks. And, below, our “walk” in the woods. Thought we would enjoy a shady amble, but a recent hatch of bite-bugs got us scampering pretty good. Pax enjoyed it, more than we did.
And, in the aerial department:
Hiding from the heat (and humidity).
Devolved volunteer Black-eyed Susans. The original plantings were double flowered.
Luna moth under development.
…for a visit, and a little hedge trimming.